“IS SHE PRETTIER THAN ME?” MY BOSS ASKED AS I LEFT FOR A DATE… AND BY MIDNIGHT, HER EMPIRE, MY FUTURE, AND HER HEART WERE ALL ON THE LINE

She almost smiles. “And do they?”

“No. Usually they rent each other short-term.”

That actually gets the corner of her mouth to lift.

Under different circumstances, you might have let yourself notice what that does to her face. The fatigue around her eyes softens. She becomes younger somehow, less CEO and more woman trying not to find something funny while a knife is still in the room. But this is not a different circumstance. So you bag the device with a microfiber cloth from her desk and slide it into an antistatic sleeve from your kit.

“Who else knows about this?” she asks.

“Right now? You and me.”

“Good.”

She says it too quickly.

You look at her then.

Really look.

Alejandra Ruiz has mastered twenty kinds of expression designed for men who need to be manipulated, reassured, cornered, flattered, or frozen. The face she is wearing now is not one of those. This is stripped-back calculation running alongside something else. Not fear exactly. Not yet. But a private alarm.

“You already suspect who it is,” you say.

She takes half a second too long.

“That’s not the same as proof.”

“No,” you reply. “It’s often more dangerous.”

She walks to the window and looks out over the city. From behind, she is all lines and discipline. Silk over tension. The skyline reflects faintly in the glass, making it look as though Mexico City is trying to climb her shoulders and claim her silhouette as part of its own machinery.

“There’s a board vote tomorrow,” she says at last.

You say nothing.

“There’s been pressure for weeks. Too much pressure. Questions dressed as concern. Requests for access disguised as urgency.” She turns back toward you. “Javier is close to Mauricio.”

There it is.

Mauricio Saldaña.

CFO. Polished. Legacy-school voice. The kind of man who says “stability” when he means control and “fiduciary prudence” when he means that a woman too young and too competent makes him itch in places his tailor cannot reach. You have seen men like him in every tower from Monterrey to Miami. They build power by sounding responsible while quietly strangling whoever threatens the old wiring.

“And you think tonight’s theft is about tomorrow’s vote,” you say.

“I think if someone wanted me weakened before the board meeting, stealing strategy files, private debt models, and internal acquisition notes would be useful.”

“Useful to replace you.”

Alejandra holds your gaze. “Yes.”

No drama.

No self-pity.

Just the clean naming of a knife.

You nod once and start for the door.

“Where are you going now?” she asks.

“To floor thirty-four.”

“Javier’s office.”

“Yes.”

She reaches for her phone.

“Don’t.”

Her hand pauses. “You’re not in charge of whether I call security.”